In The Ashes Of A Dead City
by Mamma Russia
Summary: He awoke in the ashes of a dead city. The cruel sun glared, showing neither pity nor mercy. He shook himself. It was no dream. WWII era, London bombings. UsUk Easter Gift.


**Hello! This is a Easter gift for my friend Lucy. I hope she enjoys it. And I guess it's an Easter gift to everyone who is still sticking by me although I take forever to update. Enjoy!**

**Pairing: UsUk**

**Summary: He awoke in the ashes of a dead city. The cruel sun glared, showing neither pity nor mercy. He shook himself. It was no dream. WWII era, London bombings. UsUk Easter Gift.**

**Enjoy!**

**-x-x-x-**

He awoke in the ashes of a dead city. The cruel sun glared, showing neither pity nor mercy. He shook himself. It was no dream.

He couldn't bare to look around at the destruction that once was his great capital. He had heard the screams, felt the pain, felt the despair of losing loved ones. Yet, his people had brushed it aside, let no news get out. As if they did, the Germans would know they're plan was working.

It seems the only one who couldn't get up and continue with life was him. In front of any other nations he would say it was because he felt everything and that was all. To himself, however, that would be part of it but the main reason is because it was the people of Britain that were dying, his citizens, his people, his children. His people meant the world to him, they were part of him. It felt like losing Alfred all over again.

Alfred.

Where was he? Was he OK? Had anything happened to him because of the war in Europe? He hoped not. He didn't the American involved at all. He was still building his country, not as much as he had years ago but still building. The nation was young, had helped in the First World War and had growing tensions with Russia. He should just stay out.

It didn't mean that he didn't want the loudmouth with him. To hold him. To take everything away if only for a hour.

It was then that he let the first tear fall from his eyes. It was all too much. He couldn't understand why people of the nations felt the need to fight. Even when France and him fought in battles, he couldn't understand. He never _hated_ France. In fact, he would never tell anyone but he hard been somewhat of a friend over the years. Even though he had teased him and made sexual advances, it taught him to protect himself from dangers and not let insults get to him. And France knew fine well that's what he had been doing all those years.

Hell, even France teasing him right now would put all the pain off for some time. But nothing would help him as much as having the American here with him would. Besides, France had been captured by Germany. The resistance fought hard against it, France himself being one of them, but so far, no avail.

Russia was being attacked on the other side of Europe and couldn't help him at all. China had Japan to take care of. France couldn't do anything yet. And he wanted America and Canada to _stay the fuck away_ from it all. And yes, he knew who Canada was, Canada just had a tendency to make himself invisible from time to time (translation - all the time). But Canada had helped out.

Many of the colonies he still had tried to help out. Even people in captured countries or just there in general had tried. Although the main ones were from the Commonwealth, others like Poland found a way to send pilots over. New Zealand, Czech, Belgium, South Africa, France, Ireland, and Canada had got some pilots over. Not many but it still helped.

A dark shadow covered the sun from his form. He was somewhat grateful but another part of him told him he should burn and suffer for not finding away to stop the disaster that had happened just the night before. 25th August 1940. Around 12:15am.

He narrowed his eyes to try see who the person was. He followed the outstretched hand up the long, muscled arm, to the perfectly toned chest and finally the bright blue eyes behind square glasses and blonde hair. He instantly knew who it was.

"Why…? I don't want you involved in all this."

The young nation smiled slightly and opened his hand his more. His eyes, however, gave away what he felt. He felt pity and sympathy for the Brit.

"Arthur…I can't bare to see you like this. Get up."

At first, Arthur didn't move, just stared at his hand before leaning up and grabbing the hand. Tears were stinging his eyes and he couldn't stop the feeling of relief spreading over him. The American pulled him right up and into his arms. The hug was gladly returned and all tears spilled from his eyes. He was silent, but the damp spot on Alfred's shirt told him what was happening.

Alfred lead Arthur back to his house on the outskirts of London, completely untouched, and let him cry into his chest on the Brit's couch. America's heart was tight as he held England in his arms. Recently his heart had been skipping beats and speeding up whenever he _thought_ of the British man but that didn't matter right now. All that mattered is helping Arthur.

In the spur of the moment, he kissed Arthur's head and held him tighter.

"I'm here for you, Arthur."

The English man then tilted his head up to look America in the eye and know he meant it. When seeing what he wanted in the American's eyes, he smiled, leaned in close…

And closed the distance and kissed him.

**-x-x-x-**

**I hope you, and Lucy, enjoyed that! Only took me about three hours so I don't know if I should have taken longer or what…**

**Anyway, whether you celebrate it of not, Happy Easter!**


End file.
